


Scenario Prompts

by GraveVyxen



Category: Captain America (Movies), Heroes (TV), Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Blood As Lube, Blood and Gore, Bodyswap, Bondage, Character Death, Costume Kink, Crossover, Demon AU, Drugged Sex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fantastic Four Crossover, First Kiss, Fuck Or Die, Handcuffs, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Military Kink, Moving In Together, Mutilation, Necrophilia, Over-filling Kink, Porn Star AU, Sex Pollen, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, cross-dressing, dark!fic, secret kinks, star trek crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveVyxen/pseuds/GraveVyxen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of scenario drabbles written for a prompt on Tumblr. If you happen to see anything in the tags that squicks you, you can skip over entire sections, which are bolded for easier finding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peter Petrelli/Sylar - Heroes

**Fake dating**

It’s after Claire’s left him that Sylar calls Peter. The sound of the baby crying in the background has the scarred man wincing. Claire’s run off and she’s not coming back, Sylar tells him. Of course she’s not, she’s gotten in deep with the people Peter had always warned her against. The people that had scarred his face after he tried to leave. But Sylar’s worried, worried that they’re going to come after him, after Noah, and of course, Peter feels a bit bad. Sylar wants so badly to pretend he was never what he was when he’d first met Claire.

But it doesn’t change that Sylar is worried, worried that they’re going to hurt his child, and that child is the only thing in the world he cares about. He’d fallen out of love with Claire long ago, after she’d started to change, but he wasn’t about to leave her alone with the baby, not when he could tell she was going to become someone else, someone who shouldn’t be around a baby. So why was he calling Peter?

"You’re the only one I can trust, Peter." Sylar’s voice was hushed. "I need your help. Please…come over. I just…need someone to make sure that nothing happens to me. Or to Noah."

And Peter didn’t know how he ended up coming over that night, or any other night that month. But what he did know was that the people Claire had aligned with were afraid of him, of his power, so if he stood a little too close to Sylar when they left the house to get groceries, or he carried Noah on his hip as he went down to the mailbox in the mornings, who was to know that they weren’t really dating? As long as it protected Sylar and Noah, he didn’t mind faking it.

**Bodyswap**

Peter frowned, pushing one thick eyebrow up with his pointer finger as he stared at himself in the mirror. Except it wasn’t himself. It was Sylar. “Who the hell did this to us?” He looked over his shoulder to see the other man, except he wasn’t another man, it was him, it was his body, his very… _naked_  body, spread across his bed. “I really don’t want to be stuck like this.”

Sylar grinned at him, the wicked look looking just  _wrong_  on Peter’s face. “I don’t know, Peter. But I’m sure they won’t leave us this way for long.” He reached out toward Peter. “Come back to bed.”

Peter wanted to say no, because he didn’t really want to snuggle up against his own body, but he couldn’t keep himself away from the commanding tone that Sylar used, even if it was in his own voice.  He slowly moved back toward the comfort of the mattress and pillows, folding the taller body he was occupying into his own small frame.

Sylar held him tighter. “So…does your lip always feel this strange?”

Peter sighed and resolutely ignored him, but he couldn’t help but hope that this would all be over soon.

**Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it**

Peter groaned softly when Sylar’s long fingers dug into his thighs from where he’d been lifted onto the counter in his apartment. At least they’d made it inside. “Fuck, what was in that envelope?”

Sylar barely managed a shrug as he tore open Peter’s shirt. Buttons scattered across the kitchen, and as much as he wanted to be annoyed, Peter really didn’t have it in him. He tried to keep his mind under control, but the only thing he could keep straight was ‘I need this, I need this, nownownow’. He tightened his legs around Sylar’s hips and tried to help him rid himself of his own shirt.

Peter ran his hands down the chest that Sylar had bared, chewing at his bottom lip. “Just, fuck, hurry, okay? Hurry.”

Sylar let out a grunt, but hurriedly stripped Peter’s jeans and boxers off before tugging his own down. He knew, in some back part of his mind, that he  _really_  should prepare Peter, or at least find lubricant, but he just couldn’t focus for long enough on that. He hoped spit would do. And even though Peter screamed in pain when he was split open around Sylar, the force of his thighs pulling him deeper made Sylar sure that he didn’t care as much as he should, either.

**Dark!fic**

Sylar grinned as he traced the red around Peter’s lips. Pretty, like lipstick. Except it wasn’t lipstick. And Peter looked like he was in a lot of pain. “Oh, Peter, come now. Why don’t you just heal?”

Peter grimaced. “I…can’t…” He weakly raised his hands to press into the gash across his middle. “C-can’t…”

Sylar could feel his mind reeling with delight as he dipped his fingers back into the gaping hole he’d ripped through the other man. “Can’t? That’s a shame, Peter. It really is.” He ran his bloody fingers around Peter’s mouth again before pushing them inside. “Because you always were my favorite. You look so pretty like this.”

Peter’s body convulsed slightly. He opened his mouth around Sylar’s fingers. “Help…me…please…”

Sylar ignored the plea. “Now, let’s see what this mouth can do before you pass out, hmm?”

**Secret kinks**

Sylar finished tying the knot with a small smile. “There. You look nice, Peter.” His hand slid down the bound bicep of the other man. He almost laughed at the glare Peter tried to shoot him from under the heavy eye makeup that Sylar had applied. His shaggy hair was pulled up into two pigtails, tied with ribbons. “I like you this way. Pliable.”

Peter would have twisted his mouth into a frown if it hadn’t been gagged. He tried to pull his legs back together, but his calves were lashed to the legs of the chair Sylar had gotten him into. He shivered when Sylar’s fingers trailed up his thigh, lifting the pleated skirt above his lap. His erection betrayed his definite arousal.

"Can’t believe you have a thing for being tied up like this." Sylar murmured. "And the cross-dressing, that’s a nice touch as well."

Peter snuffed a reply, watching Sylar shift back into character.

**Their first kiss**

It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t soft. It was teeth, teeth and tongue. And it hurt. Peter had a bloodied lip when the kiss was over, but his eyes were blissed out. He obviously enjoyed a little bit of pain along with his pleasure.

And that suited Sylar just fine, he thought, as he wiped Peter’s blood from his chin and dove back in. Because Sylar liked to give pain. In abundance.

**Meeting the parents**

Peter would never have the opportunity to meet Sylar’s parents. Not that they were even sure who his parents really were. But Sylar meeting Peter’s? They’d lied to him and told him that he was a part of the family. And that should have made them both sick, the thought of being brothers, but they realized later that night that they didn’t really care. Not enough to stop what they’d already started doing. Not by a long shot.

**Moving in together**

Peter was already tired of Sylar’s living in his apartment after a week. Sylar liked to lounge on the couch all day and watch crime shows, loudly announcing what the perps had done wrong. And Peter, well, he liked to be responsible and go to work. But what really disgusted him was coming home with bloody scrubs after a night in the ambulance and having Sylar tear them off of him. Because, to Sylar, blood was the biggest turn-on second only to bondage. And Peter was really getting tired of finding new excuses to get new scrubs at work.

**A crossover of my choice**

"So, what, they think they’re some kind of…?" Peter gestured at the television as the news show replayed a sequence of crime-fighting, colorfully-clothed group of people.

"Super heroes, yes." Sylar replied disdainfully, wrinkling his nose at the man in the red, white, and blue get-up. "They don’t even really have powers, either. Not like we do. We should be the ones on the news. Imagine the surprise they’d have when they saw you healing up after injury, hmm?"

The man in the red and gold metal armor flew past on the screen, using some kind of blue…light? It looked like blue light, but how could light knock someone down? “I’m not going out and showing off like them. That’s ridiculous. That’s painting a target on your back.” Peter shook his head, flipping the channel.

"Come on, Peter." Sylar moved closer to him, nuzzling the base of Peter’s jaw. "You don’t want to dress up in spandex and parade around on television for me to watch?"

Peter frowned and turned to nip at Sylar’s ear. “Absolutely not.”

**An au of my choice**

Peter was sure his hands were bleeding, but that didn’t stop him from crawling back, his teeth digging into his lower lip. He didn’t know what to do. One moment, Sylar had been Sylar, and the next-

"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" The taunting voice murmured. "Peter, don’t you recognize me? Why are you hiding?"

Peter tried to ignore the murmurs. He sunk back against the corner. This wasn’t Sylar. It wasn’t. Sylar was a terrible person, sure, but he wasn’t a-

"Gotcha." Sylar’s face suddenly appeared from behind the table, a grin screwing up his features. Blood dripped from his mouth, down his chin. "Now, why  _ever_  would you hide from me? It’s just me. Sylar.” But the hollow, black eyes betrayed him, showed what he really was. “Or, at least, I’m  _mostly_  Sylar.”

Peter wished he could disappear. A clawed hand snaked around his ankle, tugging him back into the darkness. He shivered when the sharp teeth dug into his neck. There was nowhere else to go, and he was so tired of running. The last thing he remembered hearing was Sylar’s voice. “Soon, you can join me, and we can  _stalk the night_  together.”

And maybe, just maybe, it was easier to just give in to the darkness.


	2. Howard Stark/Bucky Barnes - Captain America

**Fake dating**

The smell of cigar smoke was the only warning Bucky received before a warm hand hit the back of his neck. He stiffened a bit before relaxing into the touch when he remembered that he had to do this. Had to keep up the facade that there was something between them. Warm lips pressed to his cheek. “So, did they take the bait?” Howard whispered into his ear. “I’d hate for this to be useless.”

Bucky shrugged, passing a bottle of beer between his palms on the table while Howard took a seat next to him. “I don’t know. So far, they haven’t noticed him.” He murmured. The hand found the back of his neck again, massaging gently. “Mmm…they’re still watching us, though, so that’s a good sign.”

The group of HYDRA agents all glanced up at the moment that footsteps creaked along the roof above them, looking suspicious.

Howard cursed, pulling Bucky’s chair closer to him by the seat. The scrape of the legs on the floor drew attention back to their little table. “We don’t want them to inspect, or Cap might not make it back to camp in one piece.” He slanted his mouth over Bucky’s roughly, tasting of stale smoke and whiskey.

Bucky froze only for a second before kissing back. He could hear the noises of disgust from the HYDRA agents’ table, but if they were too busy worrying about him and Howard’s kissing two tables over, Steve would be able to get away with the blueprints for their new weapon. And he didn’t mind sacrificing his dignity for that.

**Bodyswap**

Howard tried to keep himself calm as he leaned down to straighten the bowtie around his own-no, not his, _Bucky’s_ \- neck. Bucky, trapped inside Howard’s body, giving the best impression of a deer-in-the-headlights that Howard had ever seen. Bucky, shivering with Howard’s body, Howard’s face screwed up in fear. “I can’t do this, Stark. I can’t, there’s gotta-“

"There’s not." Howard replied shortly, frowning. "You need to go out there and make the speech for me. My men are on this already. They’ll figure out a way to reverse HYDRA’s ray and get us back to normal. But for now," he slipped a few notecards into the front pocket of his own perfectly tailored suit, the suit Bucky was now standing in, " _you_  have to pretend that you’re me, and don’t fuck this one up.” He tugged at the tie on Bucky’s uniform, the one he was trapped in. He hated the rough, scratchy material. It didn’t breathe the way his elegant tux did. He was jealous of Bucky right now, in one of his favorite formal outfits, while he sweated it out under wool.

Bucky gave his own envious look. He would much rather be playing security soldier, standing at the side of the stage with a gun in his hands and making sure that nothing happened to Howard while he gave his speech.

Howard heard the music start up and gave Bucky a little shove. “You’re on, pal. I’ve got your back.” He touched the handle of the pistol at his hip. “Just read those cards word for word. You’ve got this.”

Bucky only looked slightly sick as he ambled onstage. Howard hoped to God that the crowd just thought he was drunk, because there was no way he was going to live this down if Bucky screwed it up.

**Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it**

Bucky licked his lips, glancing up through his lashes at Howard. “Just do it, Stark. If we both die, Steve’ll never forgive either of us.” He murmured. His eyes flicked towards the line of HYDRA agents, all wearing identical smirks under their helmets, each with a gun trained on the two bruised men in the room. “And if anything, it’ll give him a little more time to find us.”

Howard frowned, eyes narrowing. He didn’t like it when someone else forced his hand. But, even with his genius intellect and a good idea of each of the possible escape routes in this room, he knew their chances of escaping with both of their lives intact was slim to none. Not without Steve. Not with this many guns pointed at them. “They want to humiliate us, Barnes. You’re actually going to go along with this?”

"Capitalist pigs!" One agent yelled, motioning with his gun. "Get on with it! Little inventor fucks soldier. Put soldier in his place. Weak man, not worth uniform. Not worth fighting."

Bucky closed his eyes again, a faint blush on his cheeks as one HYDRA agent grabbed him by the arms and turned him away from Howard roughly. He was pulled over a table. His hips dug into the edge uncomfortably and his hands were shackled into place.

Howard was pushed with the barrel of a rifle toward Bucky’s prone body. “Fuck him. Make him scream.” The accented English was close to his ear. “Make him  _cry_.” The genius gritted his teeth at the commands, but moved behind Bucky’s form.

Bucky’s breathing was shallow. He was trying to stay in control of his body, not wanting to make Howard worry that there would be a problem. “Just do it, Stark. I can take it. Let’s just get it over with so Steve can get here, huh?”

Howard gripped his cock loosely, stroking himself to erectness. He spat into his palm as an afterthought to make the first thrust at least a bit more slick. “We’ll get out of here fine, Barnes. And don’t beg. Makes you sound a little like a whore.” He tried to joke with a smile.

"Fuck you." Bucky’s smile betrayed his slight comfort in Howard’s presence. "I trust you. Don’t make me regret that."

**Dark!fic (TW: Major character death, NECROPHILIA)**

The Winter Soldier’s target hadn’t been as hard to get to as he’d believed. Not when he’d shown up with his hair pulled back, dressed like a civilian. He was welcomed into the lavish home that the owner of Stark Industries lived in with open arms. He’d shaken hands and made nice, agreed with Stark when he’d called him ‘Bucky’. He’d even let the man kiss him on the mouth. Apparently, he and this ‘Bucky’ had been together at some point during the war, and he’d been presumed dead. But Stark, he was too accepting, too trusting of the man with his dead lover’s face.

Which made his look of shock when the Winter Soldier slit his throat just  _that_  much more satisfying. He always loved it when his targets seemed to trust him, when they didn’t put up any resistance, until that last moment when the gun touched their heads, or the knife found their throats.

The knife had been his choice this time. Howard was too good-looking to blow a hole through his face. Even the Winter Soldier had to appreciate a handsome face.

But watching him lay there, bleeding out onto his very expensive bedsheets, made something stir deep inside the Soldier’s being. He couldn’t help but wonder what this ‘Bucky’ had gotten from Stark. And he was determined to know before he left. Which is why he found himself stripping the pliable body of the billionaire down to nothing, head lolling easily. The gash wound in his neck still dripped a bit down his chest, but that didn’t worry the Soldier. He searched the nightstand and came up with a condom, grinning to himself as he put it over his cock. It had been a while since he’d been with another human, living or dead, and he intended to enjoy himself, but not at the risk of being caught.

Stark’s legs moved easily when he lifted them to his shoulders, and his body gave very little resistance against the hard flesh breaching it, especially with his own blood slicking the way. The Soldier fucked the same way he worked, quietly and with a purpose. He was rough on the body, in a way he was sure would have the owner of it complaining, if he was still  _alive_  to complain, that was.

And when the Soldier was done, he slipped the condom into his pocket and kissed the cold lips of the corpse that was stiffening up before he escaped out the window. He had to hand it to whoever ‘Bucky’ was, he’d definitely chosen well when he’d found someone to sleep with. If Howard was that good in bed after death, just  _imagine_  how good he would have been alive.

**Secret kinks**

"Straighten up, soldier!" Howard used the riding crop in his hand to smack the side of Bucky’s thigh. "I swear, you can’t even take simple orders." He adjusted the military-issued hat on his head. It matched the uniform he’d gotten as a gift from the army, command-cut and patched. He looked every inch a commander when he donned it. And he only donned it here, in his bedroom. And only when his own personal soldier was around to enjoy it.

Bucky, stripped nude and standing at attention, feet together and back straight, was waiting on another order. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He felt pleasure in the pit of his gut when Howard’s riding crop slid up his thigh and came down with a crack over his backside. “I’m sorry, sir!” He repeated louder.

"Bend over my desk." Howard said roughly. "Now, soldier. I’m going to punish you for your insolence earlier. And I expect you to count your lashes, as well."

Bucky held in a moan as he crossed to the desk and placed his hands down on the smooth oak surface. He bowed his back and waited. The wait wasn’t long.

The crop came down on his ass with a loud smack, over and over, and he counted off each hit. “One, sir. Two, sir. Three, sir,” until he’d reached up to “Twenty-nine, sir.” His voice was ragged with unshed tears, creamy backside covered in welts and bruises in the shape of the riding crop. “Thirty, sir.”

Howard set the crop down to take a handful of abused skin in his hand for a squeeze. “Mmm…” The sound of a zipper being undone had Bucky shivering. “Now, for the final part of your punishment, I believe something different is in order.” Something slick was being pressed between his cheeks, and if he hadn’t already prepared himself before he’d stripped down for Howard earlier, he would have been hurt, easily, because Howard didn’t start out with fingers, just went on to the main event. At least he’d slicked his cock up first.

And the lovemaking was painful every time Howard’s hips bumped up against his welted backside, but he couldn’t help pushing back into the fullness. Couldn’t stop moaning and whining for more, until he’d been filled to the brim and beyond. Until cum dripped down between his thighs and Howard was jerking him off against the desk.

"I love your kinky side, Barnes." Howard whispered in his ear when Bucky came with a cry. "And I love that you’re only this way for me."

**Their first kiss**

Bucky couldn’t remember who kissed who first. He just remembered the taste of whiskey in his mouth, and the hard press of Howard’s small body against his front, the commanding presence of a man who was smaller, weaker, than him. But Howard was one of those people who could make Bucky weak in the knees. He was someone whose very presence made Bucky respect him. Someone who could easily control a soldier with just a few words. And Bucky loved that, loved the dominant side that Howard had.

And the kiss wasn’t bad either.

**Meeting the parents**

Bucky regretted that he could never let his mother meet Howard, though part of him felt that the fact that she (and his father) were both gone was probably a good thing. His dad had been a stickler for religion and the military, so he probably wouldn’t have liked to be introduced to a male partner for his son, and his mom would’ve likely had a heart attack.

But he was even more uncomfortable meeting Stark’s parents. After what he’d heard of Howard, Sr., he’d been unwilling to meet the man that had pissed Howard off that way. It hadn’t stopped Howard from dragging him along to the house anyway, and it hadn’t stopped him from listening to Stark, Sr. talk about how much he appreciated military men like Bucky, or how disappointed he was that Howard wouldn’t even sign up for the army.

But he was sure, insanely sure, that Howard’s father had heard them fucking that night, and he knew he’d never be able to look the man in the eye again after he’d heard Bucky’s pleas to cum while he was fucked open by his son’s tongue.

**Moving in together**

Bucky didn’t really know how to react when he’d finally seen the mansion that Howard occupied after he’d been asked to move in. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to  _thank_  Stark for his willingness to share his home, or be pissed off that it felt like he was becoming a charity case. Either was a viable option at this point. And he knew the moment that the help took his bags from him and showed him to Howard’s room that he’d never understand why rich people couldn’t do anything on their own.

But, hey, once he’d gotten a glance at the nice shower in the bathroom and the large fireplace in the bedroom, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he might be able to get used to living the high life. If Howard would at least let him do his own laundry, that is. Can’t give up every skill he’d learned living with Steve, right?

**A crossover of my choice (Hot Tub Time Machine)**

It was all Stark’s fault, Bucky knew, that they’d gotten trapped in another time, something with too much color and too loud of music. Somewhere cold, and, fuck, he hated the cold. Hated it more than anything. But Howard, the bastard, was too interested in the new technology of the now. Someone had told him it was ‘86 when he asked, and as much as he wanted to ask about the war, see if they were still fighting, Howard had covered his mouth and thanked the woman, who sashayed away in her brightly-colored winter clothes.

But it was when they were inspecting the hotel they’d landed at that Howard pointed out another resident. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, Barnes, but that guy, he looks a  _hell_  of a lot like you.”

Bucky nearly hit Howard upside the head as the man in question straightened the collar of a too-thick jacket and bristled like a wet cat. “No, he fucking doesn’t. Shut up.”

"Maybe he’s your son from the future!" Howard grinned. "I bet he’d  _love_  to meet you.”

"Stark, if you don’t shut your damn mouth, I will shut it for you. Now, you promised me that you’d get us home. So get on it." Bucky grabbed Howard by the back of his jacket and pulled him away. "And I never want to hear about this stupid time period again."

**An au of my choice**

Pack was pack. Bucky knew that. But when their alpha had been in a fight with another wolf, and lost, he didn’t expect the big, black wolf to transform back into such a small, scrawny man. Hell, in human form, _Bucky_  was bigger. And he was a damn beta. But he couldn’t even challenge this newcomer. Their new pack leader. Howard was smarter than anyone else in the pack, and only rivaled in strength by Steve when in their wolf forms. But Steve was an omega, and happy in his position. He liked being at the bottom of the pack because no one ever fought with him. And he got to help the females raise their pups.

But Bucky, he didn’t like seeing Phillips go. It didn’t matter to him how old Phillips had gotten. Phillips was the best pack leader they could have, and now this new alpha had taken control. And he didn’t like it one bit.

But when he challenged Howard’s position, he found himself laid out on his back. Strength wasn’t even a question when the man, or wolf, you were fighting was smarter. When he could find and exploit your weaknesses.

So the next time they transformed, he limped up with his tail between his legs and rolled over onto his back. He’d only ever presented his belly to Phillips before. But the way Howard licked his chops at the movement and dug his teeth, gently, so gently, into the mane around his neck, had Bucky second guessing his allegiance. Maybe he could run under this new alpha.

And the way they rutted after their shaky start didn’t hurt at all, either.


	3. Howard Stark/Steve Rogers - Captain America

**Fake dating**

Steve twisted around to give Howard a pointed look when the man blew smoke across the table. He frowned. “Smoking’s bad for you, Mr. Stark.” He pointed out as his eyes found the man they’d been watching. He’d allegedly gotten a hold of some blueprints of Howard’s, some new weapons he was in the process of building for the army. And, of course, Steve was put on the case, with Howard tagging along because he ‘needed to get back what was taken from him’ on his own.

But neither of them expected him to lead them to this-this-perverse establishment that pretended to be a bar. Steve had had to steel himself not to make a scene when he saw men sitting in the laps of other men, kissing and touching and dancing openly. It wasn’t that he was against it, no, but he knew that this was against the law and it wasn’t the most comfortable place to go into unawares. Howard hadn’t even batted an eyelash, but had instead slipped a hand into Steve’s, like it was the most normal thing on the planet, and led him to a small table in the corner.

Where they had now been sitting for nearly twenty minutes, and all they’d succeeded in finding out was that the man they’d followed was definitely here to meet someone. The problem was that he wasn’t here to meet someone about the blueprints. Or, if he was, part of the exchange involved another man’s tongue down his throat.

Steve averted his eyes back to Howard, who’d ignored his last dig about smoking and was still happily puffing away at his cigar. “Are you sure this guy took your stuff, Mr. Stark? He doesn’t seem to be doing anything with them.”

"So he isn’t. You know, I might’ve just misplaced them in the lab. Actually, yes, now that I think about it," Howard tapped the ash from the end of his cigar, "I know  _exactly_  where they are. But, seeing as we’re here, maybe we could get a drink.” He raised his hand to get the attention of one of the skimpily dressed boys walking around with trays of glasses. “Two bourbons, please, on the rocks.” He smirked and turned back to Steve. “So, Captain Rogers, tell me more about yourself. I don’t believe we’ve actually gotten to chat before.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, cheeks coloring. He’d been tricked into coming with Howard to a bar for perverts. He stood up quickly. “You lied? To Colonel Phillips? Just to take me here?”

Howard’s grin widened as he took Steve’s hand and pulled him back down, Steve only going because everyone was staring at him now and he just wanted to blend back in. “Just for a drink, that’s all. And then we can go back to base and pretend this never happened, hmm? What do you say, pal?”

Steve huffed and grabbed the glass sitting in front of him with a purpose. Might as well get it over with.

**Bodyswap**

"Oh, this is  _nice_.” Howard flexed his arm, delighting in the way the muscle tightened. “I need to write this down! Firsthand experience with the super soldier serum! This is incredible!” He grabbed his notepad with purpose, and a pencil. “And you feel like this all the time?”

Steve rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Yes, all the time. Can you just-Howard, calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”

"Not a big deal?" Howard whipped around, his pencil only stuttering for a moment before words were flowing again. "I’m getting to know exactly how it feels to be a super soldier. Enhanced muscle, enhanced senses. It’s one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me, Steve. I didn’t know what it was like to feel the way you do."

Steve flopped back on the bed, feeling weak in Howard’s body. He touched the moustache on his upper lip. “It’s not fair that you got to keep the genius, too. I feel so useless.”

Howard’s frantic writing stopped then, and he turned to look at Steve. “Useless? Not at all, pal, I promise!” He stood up from his desk. “Not even close. You know this body better than I do. Maybe…you could help me out with my discoveries?” He winked, and Steve noticed that the wink looked  _all_  wrong on his face, and he swallowed hard. “You know your body, Steve. Let’s test out its resistance.”

Steve didn’t remember much else past that, except that Howard was still an  _exceptionally_  good lover, and that he needed to wait a little longer after penetration. That cock hurt like a  _bitch_.

**Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it**

All Steve could feel was a hard body pressed against his front, all he could smell was whiskey and cigar smoke and  _Howard_ ,  _Howard_ ,  _Howard_. All he could taste was Howard’s lips and his bourbon. His fingers dug painfully into the inventor’s hips. He didn’t know what it was that was allowing him the freedom to do this, he wasn’t sure what to do to make it stop, but he didn’t want it to stop, didn’t want to give up before his cock stopped throbbing so  _painfully_  against Howard’s stomach.

"Dammit, Rogers." Howard groaned against Steve’s mouth. "I told you not to touch that flower, I told you, fuck." His hips were rocking against one of Steve’s thighs, and he didn’t seem as mad as he was trying to pretend he was. "I told you not to do it, and you did. You don’t  _listen_.”

Steve growled and all he could think of were ways to shut Howard up, and one of those involved throwing the inventor over his work table and fucking him into a stupor. That one seemed like it pleased his painful erection the most, so he went for it, lifting Howard about the waist to press his back against the smooth wood.

Howard gasped softly at the motion, but instinctively wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist. He watched the super soldier spit a few times into his palm before hearing him slick himself up. “If you don’t do it soon, Rogers, I’m gonna end up exploding.”

The scream that the inventor released at the penetration was enough to send Steve into a frenzy, fucking him in earnest.

How long would it take for the pollen to wear off? Steve couldn’t be sure, but he knew he wouldn’t be repeating his mistake again.

**Dark!fic (TW: Gore, mutilation)**

The squelching noise was sickening in the small, dark room that branched off from Howard’s lab. Steve shivered softly, tugging at the binds that held him to the table. They were made of some special alloy, one that Howard told him even his super strength couldn’t break. “Why are you-” Steve coughed quietly, “doing this to me?” There was only one light on in the room, and it was above him, shining down brightly on his form, reflecting red off of the organs Howard had already inspected and set aside. None of them were far enough from his body to stop functioning, at least not enough to put him out of commission entirely. He could feel the dull pain from the poking and prodding under the morphine Howard had pumped into his system. “Why?”

"I need to dissect the only specimen we have." Howard replied with a grin. There was blood smeared across his cheek and nose, gore in his hair. "And what a specimen. You don’t even pass out from pain or drugs. I like that." His gloved hand came back out of Steve’s abdominal cavity with a slick noise. "Dissections were my favorite project at school. Did you know that, Rogers?" He rearranged Steve’s organs again, but didn’t un-pin his skin from the table to allow him to heal. "I love seeing the way things work up close. But the specimens were always dead already when I got my hands on them. I’ve never had the opportunity to watch lungs fill with air or a stomach contract when it’s prodded. I need to write all of this down for further research."

Steve let out a gasp of pain when the morphine started to wear off. “Howard…please, let…let me up.”

Howard glanced up from his notebook and quirked a brow. “Let you up? But I’m enjoying our little experiment too much.” He finished his notes. “Let’s see just how much your body can take before you give out and the healing stops, hmm?”

**Secret kinks**

Howard checked the handcuffs for the third time to make sure the alloy he’d made was still holding. No cracks yet, even with the tugging from Steve’s super soldier muscles. He nodded and stepped back to finally play along with what Steve had wanted and, Howard couldn’t lie, he wanted as well. “Well, Cap, quite a predicament you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it? Rescuing those friends of yours might have cost you your freedom.”

Steve, wearing his uniform, but stripped to the waist with the cowl still pulled on, tugged at the binds. “At least they’re safe. I don’t care what happens to me, so long as they’re okay.”

Howard smiled, slipping the suspenders off of his shoulders. “Let’s see if I can find a way to get you out of here, huh?” He reached up to finger the cuffs. “Musta made this out of some kind of compound if you can’t break ‘em, eh, pal?”

Steve cocked his head as if he was listening for something. “I can hear them, Howard. Hurry up and get us out of here.” He pleaded in a loud whisper. “It’s on you. You’ll be a hero if you can get me down.”

Howard waggled his eyebrows, grinning. “What’ll you give me if I can get you out of here in time, Cap?”

"Anything you want." Steve hissed back. "I’d do anything for the guy who saved my butt to fight another day."

Howard could feel his cock hardening in his dress pants and he stuck a hand in his pocket for the key. He couldn’t wait any longer for this. “You better keep that promise!” He unlocked the cuffs to release Steve, tugging at the end of the cowl to bring the taller man down for a hard kiss. “C’mon, I can’t wait any longer.”

Steve chuckled softly. “You cheated your way out of that!” But the cheating didn’t stop him from slipping his hand into Howard’s and allowing himself to be led to the bedroom. “You’re supposed to try harder to find the set I hid before going for the safeties.”

Howard shrugged with a smug grin. “I couldn’t help it. You look good this way and I want you  _now_.” He shoved Steve down on the bed and crowded up between his legs. “Now, I want my reward, Cap.”

**Their first kiss**

Steve remembered being crowded up against the wall backstage at his show in New York. The chorus girls were onstage already, entertaining the crowd, and he’d been back here re-reading his lines. He hated these shows. He hated the fear he always had in the pit of his stomach when it came to performing. But tonight was different. Tonight, they were back in New York, and they had a  _famous_  guest.

A  _famous_  guest who just so happened to have plastered himself to Steve’s front, kissing the super soldier for all he was worth. There was nothing discussed between them. Howard Stark didn’t seem to be the type to discuss his intentions. He’d sauntered up, lips still glistening with whiskey, buried his hands into Steve’s thick, blonde hair, and meshed their mouths together.

Steve wasn’t sure what to do in reaction. His hands twitched before finally settling on Howard’s shoulders. He tentatively kissed back. It felt right, he blushed at the admission of his mind, to kiss Howard Stark. He’d only been fanaticizing about him since that Stark Expo before Erskine picked him up for the project. The fantasies had only increased when Howard had been there for the experiment.

But he’d never imagined that  _Howard_  would initiate it. And when the other man pulled back with a wink and smiled, Steve felt his knees go to jelly.

"Kiss for luck, pal. You looked like you needed it."

**Meeting the parents**

Howard’s parents had loved meeting Steve, mostly because he was an American icon, and Howard’s mother hadn’t been able to stop praising the things Steve had done. Steve, of course, floundered and flushed his way through her words, unable to find a response for her, until Howard did it for him.

But Howard didn’t like that his parents split them up during their night-long stay in the house. He disliked even more that Steve went along with it, out of respect for Howard’s parents. But he supposed he should just accept it, as he lay in the dark by himself. Steve would always be old-fashioned and respectful. Howard just needed to give him a little nudge to the dark side.

**Moving in together**

Steve would insist that he was just staying with Howard while he was on leave from the army, which was how he saw it, but the rest of the world? They saw Captain America living with the inventor who’d helped him become the super soldier he was now. They saw the heavy bags Steve had brought with him, how close the two of them stood when they finally had everything together and they’d come out to tell the paparazzi that it was time to go home.

But Steve continued to tell himself, even when he felt Howard’s hand on his back, that it was just for leave, because the army needed him, needed Captain America back on the front lines again, and he couldn’t stay here forever.

But he knew that if anything was to happen to him, that Howard would take care of his things.

**A crossover of my choice**

"This is amazing!" Steve whipped around. His face openly displayed his terror as he took in his surroundings. Soft beeping filled the air, lights flashing at random from shiny desks, and he was being stared at by a large group of men and women in what looked like uniforms. His eyes searched out Howard, who was bent over the station of a man with pointed ears and a bowl cut. The man was leaning as far back in his chair as seemed possible, but his face showed no emotion. "Captain." The man murmured.

Steve opened his mouth in shock, ready to ask how the man knew his title before a man to his right, blonde, dressed in yellow, replied with, “I know, Mr. Spock. We seem to have guests.” Steve turned quickly to look at the man who had spoken. “How did you beam aboard the Enterprise?”

"B-beam? We…we were…" Steve faltered. "Enterprise?"

The man cocked his head and glanced at the other officer, the man he’d called Spock. “The Enterprise. My starship. How did you get aboard my ship?”

Howard straightened up quickly. “Hey, pal, listen, we were doing some experiments in my lab and, well…” He shrugged, smiling. “Howard Stark.” He held out a hand to shake.

"Jim Kirk." The other man replied warily as he shook hands with Howard. "Experiments?"

"Faster travels. Obviously, there’s some kinks to work out." Howard glanced at Steve. "We’re a little lost."

 _A little, yeah._  Steve thought, shaking his head.  _Just a_  little.

**An au of my choice**

"So, what, he’s never been in a movie before?" Howard was more than a little frustrated, rubbing at his temples. "I’ve told  _every_  director that I’ve been on set with, I  _don’t_  do newbies.” He glanced up, narrowing his eyes at the blonde who was standing in his own silk robe, awkwardly wringing his hands and glancing around like he was terrified. “I can’t just baby him through this, I fucking refuse.” He grabbed for the coffee his assistant held out. “I’m Howard fucking Stark. I’m the best in the fucking business and you give me hacks.”

The assistant looked terrified. “Well, sir, I…I know, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my choice, sir, but the director really liked his look and, well, you know, he just wants to take you out of your comfort zone…?”

Howard scoffed, tossing back a gulp of coffee and frowning. “You put sugar in this. It’s ruined.” He tossed the cup at his assistant’s feet. “And I hate fucking boys who can’t hold up their end of the deal.” He turned to head toward the bed on set. “Send him the fuck over so we can shoot this scene. I have a script to run through tonight with someone who’s been around the block a few times.”

It wasn’t long before he felt the bed dip, a warm weight shifting next to him. Howard only gave the boy a sidelong glance. He gave the muscular frame of the other male an appraising sniff before looking back at the script in his hand. “So, let me guess, it’s your first adult film?”

The boy ducked his head, nodding. “Yeah.” He said softly. “I’m Steve Rogers. I…I’ve seen all of your movies, Mr. Stark.”

Howard made a noise in his throat but seemed to ignore the comment. “Says here that you’re going to be playing military man and I’m going to be your sergeant. Can you do that?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically. “I can, sir, I know I can.”

"I hit hard." Howard replied. "And I don’t like to fake things. So your ass better be ready for the spanking of your lifetime." He set down the script. "I take it you’re almost ready to go, then?"

Steve nodded once more, blushing as he stood to strip off his robe, revealing only a pair of camo pants and boots underneath.

"Good." Howard signaled the director. "Because I don’t like fuck-ups, either."


	4. Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes - Captain America

**Fake dating**

Steve nudged Bucky when the other man reached up to scratch at the razor burn that had risen on his chin after his shave this morning. “Buck, come on, you can’t blow our cover like this.” He murmured, leaning his head close when someone walked past their table. The man wasn’t HYDRA, he realized, once the man had passed without giving them a single glance.

Bucky grumbled and rolled his eyes, but lowered his hand all the same. “It fucking  _itches_ , and how come _I’m_  the one in the dress? Why couldn’t  _you_  wear the damn dress?” He hissed back.

Steve almost laughed at the pout Bucky had on his face, the way it was accentuated with the red lipstick he’d borrowed from Peggy. “Because you look beautiful and my arms are too big?”

Bucky huffed. “I look terrible as a woman, Steve.” He replied. “Can you just stop bullshitting me already? Everyone can tell I’m a guy, no matter how much makeup you put on me.”

"The wig’s a nice touch." Steve smiled, tucking a lock of dark brown behind Bucky’s ear. "You look very pretty, Sergeant."

Bucky rolled his eyes again, crossing his arms. “I just look like me in an ugly dress with fake hair and bad make up choices.”

"Well…" Steve’s eyes had finally caught sight of the HYDRA agents they were following. "So long as those men over there don’t look too close, we’re just a lovely young couple on a date." He smiled. "So what do you say, honey, how do you like this place?"

**Bodyswap**

"Damn it!" Bucky’s eyes shot open at the words from the living room. He reached under his pillow for his revolver, while rolling sideways from the bed. When his fingers didn’t meet the cool metal, he stiffened, at the same time falling to the floor from the momentum of his moving.

"Fuck!" Bucky rubbed at his hip and gingerly stood up. After a moment, he went stiff again, sleep-addled brain catching up with him to realize that he’d used his  _left_  hand to rub his hip, and it wasn’t metal he’d felt against his skin. It was  _skin_  and how long had it been since his left hand was flesh and blood? He looked down at both hands in shock, holding them to his face for a moment before looking around the room. Both hands were truly human, no cybernetic parts. He touched his shoulder where he could normally feel the groove between metal and flesh, but there was nothing there. Nothing but skin covering hard muscle.

And that’s when he noticed that he’d been on Steve’s side of the bed, and Steve was nowhere in sight. He reached across the bed to toss his own pillow away and grabbed the revolver in his right hand. He crouched and headed for the door.

When he threw it open and glanced around the frame to the living room, his eyes widened in shock. Because there he stood, by the leather couch in the main room of Steve’s apartment, tossing down what looked like it had been the remote to Steve’s big screen TV, crushed in the metal fingers of his cybernetic arm.

Bucky pulled his head back into the bedroom, leaning back against the wall. He closed his eyes to take a deep breath. How in the  _fuck_  was his body out there? How did that even work?

Slowly, Bucky got to his feet and looked down. It was only then that he noticed he was wearing the pajama pants Steve had crawled into bed wearing, faded light brown, and a white tee-shirt that fit his chest more tightly than it should. His chest, which was more muscular than it had ever been, and that’s when it hit him.

He was in  _Steve’s_  body. Which meant… “Steve?!” He called out, turning to stand in the open doorway. His voice was strangled and pained. “Steve! Is that…?”

Bucky’s body turned toward him, eyes wide. “Buck?” He took a few large steps toward the bedroom, hands coming up defensively when he saw the gun. “Bucky, stop, it’s okay. It’s me.”

Bucky warily set the gun down on the nightstand and held his hands out to his own body. He shivered when the metal fingers of his arm slid through his raised ones, lacing them together. He was pulled into a tight embrace with his own body, and gently set his chin on his own dark hair. “How can I be sure?”

"It’s me." His voice sounded just as strained as Bucky’s was sure his sounded with every word. "It’s Steve, Bucky Bear. I promise." He gave Bucky a little squeeze, but immediately released it when the man in his arms wheezed from the strength of the cybernetic limb. "Damn, I’m sorry. Your arm, I can’t-"

"No, no, it’s okay." Bucky replied quietly. "I know, it’s really strong and it’s hard to control when you don’t know." He looked down at Steve, into his own dark blue eyes and flinched. "What the hell happened? How are we like this?"

Steve shrugged Bucky’s shoulders and nuzzled his neck. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Must have been someone’s cruel joke on us.” He looked up.  “I broke the remote…”

Bucky sighed and smiled a little bit at Steve’s attempt to break the seriousness of his own thoughts. “I saw that. We’ll just have to get a new one.” He licked his lips. “What…what should we do, then?”

Steve shrugged again. “We could…I don’t know. Spend the day inside. We don’t want anyone to know that we’re not in bodies that we know how to control. That could be disastrous if someone finds out Captain America doesn’t know how to use his strength or the shield, right? Or the Winter Soldier can’t hold a gun without his stupid metal hand breaking it?”

Bucky cracked a grin. “Sounds good to me, Stevie.” He murmured, leading Steve to the couch. “Hey, look at it this way, I get to be the big one again.”

Steve laughed a little. “And you’re just gonna exploit that all day now, aren’t you?”

"Maybe a little." Bucky ran his fingers up Steve’s arm when the other man cuddled into his chest.

**Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it**

Steve hated the laughter he could hear all around him from where he was standing in the middle of a domed room. The only thing in the room was the table that Bucky was strapped down to, a band of thick leather across his upper chest and another on his stomach, heavy metal clamps holding his hands down at his sides, on his back. His best friend’s legs were bent and apart, held there by metal supports. He was nude, and by the blown look of his pupils and the sweat on his brow and his neck, drugged. Bucky’s hands unconsciously clenched and unclenched in their binds.

Steve threw a look up high around the sides of the room. He knew they were in some kind of chamber and that, up there, the Skull and his lackeys were watching him eagerly. He could hear their laughter, for God’s sake. They wanted to watch him humiliate himself. Humiliate Bucky. And he wasn’t going to do that, he couldn’t do that to Bucky, not when Bucky couldn’t even fight back.

"Herr Captain." Red Skull’s voice permeated the room again from hidden speakers, causing poor Bucky to flinch violently on the table. "I see you have fallen into our trap. I knew our little hostage would be bait enough to bring you running to his rescue. Tell me, how do you like his arrangement on the table? We’ve already had our own fun getting him ready for you. You should have seen him fight while my agents tied him down. He took down quite a few of them before he succumbed to my medicine. A powerful muscle relaxer. Nothing toxic." There was a soft chuckle. "He’ll be quite pliable for you, Captain. All you have to do is defile his body, and we will let him go free. Defile him, Captain, and his life will be spared."

Steve swallowed, but flashed a determined face at the windows. He could almost see Skull gloating. “I’m not going to hurt him!”

There was quiet for a few moments. “Then the room will flood with noxious gas.  _You_  may survive it, but he will not. And you know he won’t, don’t you, Captain? You know your friend would never survive the toxins we have here. And the longer you take to obey orders, the closer we get to flooding the chamber. Keep that in mind while you fight with your morals. I think your friend would be begging you to get on with it, if he were in his right mind, don’t you? He’d want you to obey and keep him safe.”

There was a whine from the table. Bucky’s eyes were far away, but he could hear the words. Or at the very least, Skull’s voice. And that voice was terrifying him. Steve dropped the shield to move to Bucky’s side. “Shh, Buck, I’m here. I’m gonna get you out of here, I promise.” He gently touched the side of Bucky’s head, only to watch him jerk away with another soft whimper. “Bucky, it’s Steve!”

Bucky clenched his eyes shut and turned away, hands flexing more quickly now. He looked petrified underneath the drugging. He was afraid of Red Skull. Of what Skull and his men had done to him. And if Steve didn’t…if he didn’t…do  _that_ , Skull would kill Bucky. Bucky would die in fear, drugged, tied and naked and  _scared_. And Steve couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t let Bucky die here.

Slowly, Steve undid the belt at his waist, the pants he’d pulled up over his uniform, pushed everything down slowly and deliberately, begging Bucky with his mind to stay calm. He moved between his friend’s forcibly spread legs, ran a soft hand over his shaking thigh. “I’m going to be gentle, Bucky. I’m gonna be as gentle as I can. I won’t hurt you.”

Bucky’s eyes finally opened, and Steve could swear he saw a little bit of his friend in those drug-addled pupils. Bucky relaxed a bit from how he’d been and his legs stopped shaking.

Steve smiled. He spat into his hand to slick up a bit before positioning himself. “I’m gonna get you out of here, Bucky. I promise. We’ll make it back to base and I’ll never let them hurt you again.”

**Dark!fic (TW: Murder, blood used as lubricant, COMPLETE AU with dark!Steve, mentions of cannibalism)**

Bucky leaned back into Steve’s embrace, smiling at the lips on his earlobe. “You did well, soldier.” He heard, blood-slick hands undoing his pants. “She never saw it coming.”

Bucky’s eyes fell on the body of the woman on the floor and a smile found his lips. She had a steadily-growing puddle of blood coming from the neck-wound he’d given her. Her hair feathered out around her head, some of it wet and clumped with blood. He found himself standing taller with pride. He’d done exactly what Steve wanted him to. He’d done the dirty work himself this time around to balance out the last time. Last time, he’d gotten so sick when Steve put the knife in his hand, the thought of killing the innocent man, that he’d thrown up. Nearly gotten them caught that time, they’d both had to lay low, and Steve refused to kiss him for a week. Not after he’d had to do the killing himself on top of cleaning up after Bucky.

But this time, Bucky had done what Steve asked. Steve, his leader, he’d follow Steve’s orders no matter the cost. And it seemed he would have a reward this time, for sure. He was answered when one of Steve’s blood-slick hands found his half-hard cock, the adrenaline had made it that way, and began to stroke. Bucky’s mouth fell open and he moaned, leaning back into the other man’s hard chest. “St-Steve…”

"Did you know that it really turns me on to watch you do what I say?" Steve murmured in his ear. "And watching you  _kill_  for me, Bucky, that’s the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen.” His lips trailed down the shell, down Bucky’s neck. “You did so well, soldier. My little killing machine.”

Bucky would do anything for Steve, he knew, as he thrust into that slick hand, knowing somewhere inside, also, that he would have to spend time cleaning up in the shower, because now his cock, too, was slick with blood, the blood of that woman on the floor, the one he’d killed because Steve told him to. Because she’d been one of the people that threatened him. Because she’d caught him once, threatened to tell the police when she’d found the head in his fridge. A woman shouldn’t be checking in your fridge after only one date.

But he’d shown her. The same way he’d shown his nosey neighbor last time not to go looking in the window when he’d been preparing dinner. He was dinner later that night, and Bucky knew the woman in front of them would be going the same way. He didn’t mind the meals of human flesh, no, because Steve trusted him, and it wasn’t like they ate  _raw_  meat. He’d just never been allowed to be a part of the _shopping_  when it came to their dinners. Not until recently. Not until Steve knew he could trust Bucky not to talk.

He should have been more trusting, Bucky thought to himself with a soft moan when Steve’s finger swiped over the slit in his cock, precum dribbling everywhere. “Steve…”

"Do you want me inside you, Buck? Do you want to  _fuck_  before dinner?” Steve smiled into Bucky’s short hair. “No one will even know she’s gone, Bucky. Not when there’s no body to find.” He leaned down to swipe some more blood from the floor. “Just a quick one.”

Bucky nodded, because,  _fuck_ , did he want Steve. It was so hot when Steve lost his morality, down here in their cellar, where he’d always brought their victims, where he’d always killed them. Because outside of here, he was so normal. He was nearly saintly. But down here, he was teasing, and rude, and cold to the victims. But not to Bucky. He always took care of Bucky.

And when Steve’s cock, slicked only with that woman’s blood, slid inside of him, hot and hard and perfect, Bucky couldn’t help but babble out his thanks.

**Secret kinks**

Bucky moaned loudly, spreading his legs further as Steve pounded into him. He leaned his chest down over the bed. “Steve…Steve please…more…”

Steve bit his lip, hand skimming down over Bucky’s bowed back to touch the stretched ring of muscle that was clenching tightly around his cock. “Bucky…my Bucky…” He reached for the bottle of lubricant, upturning it over his fingers. “You want more?”

Bucky nodded, letting out a breathless keen. “Steve, please!” He groaned when he felt a slick finger prodding at his entrance. “Please, please…I need it, Steve…” He bowed his head to let his hair cover his flushed face. Only here, alone, in their darkened bedroom, would he ever let Steve do this to him. Only in the darkness could he give his body over fully, allow Steve to make him impossibly stretched open and be comfortable begging. His cock gave a hearty twitch when he imagined how he must look, how he sounded. He could never admit at any other time that he loved this.

Steve never judged him. Steve never mentioned it outside of the bedroom, never with the light on. He wouldn’t allow Bucky to feel shame for what he liked to have done to him. And he always enjoyed it just as much as Bucky did.

A finger breached Bucky’s body alongside Steve’s cock, and it was all he could do to bite back his moan. “Steve…”

Steve leaned down to kiss the back of Bucky’s neck, pumping the finger into the other man in time with his cock. “I’ve got you, Buck. I’m right here.”

"S-Steve…more…" Bucky could feel the heat on his face as he raised his hips. "I need more."

Another finger slipped inside, coated heavily with lubricant, gently stretching him. And then another, and another.

Bucky came with a sharp gasp, whimpering, while Steve fucked him with four fingers and his cock, stretching him impossibly wide while he rubbed against the bed. And when it was over, all he could do was rest his sweaty forehead against the covers while Steve filled him with cum and drew his cock and fingers back out of Bucky’s sloppy, wet hole. “I…I love you, Steve. Thank you…”

Steve flopped down next to Bucky, rubbing a hand on his lower back. “I love you, too, Buck. And thank _you_.”

**Their first kiss**

Steve leaned into the warm, hard shoulder of the boy next to him. He remembered a time when Bucky had been little, softer, but in recent years, he’d hit a growth spurt and started working on his muscles. He’d told Steve that he wanted to enlist in the army, but for now, they were both still in Brooklyn. They’d only recently gotten an apartment together, a small crackerbox place with a faulty heater, but a place of their own. Now that Bucky had gotten kicked out of the orphanage after his eighteenth birthday, he was glad to have someone to live with.

Steve almost jumped when Bucky’s lips brushed his ear. “So, you likin’ the movie, pal?” He whispered.

Steve nodded, smiling at the animation on screen. “This Disney guy is really goin’ places.” He murmured back. “The little puppet kid looks great.”

Bucky smiled, eyes going back to the screen. “Glad you’re liking it. I guess I spent my pay well?”

Steve blushed. “Thank you, Bucky. Really. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. Spending your pay to take me out for a movie.”

Bucky chuckled quietly, his teeth flashing in the light. “My pleasure.” He glanced around as the screen went dark for a moment before leaning down to press his lips to Steve’s.

The kiss was a shock to the blonde, but he didn’t pull back. It was quickly over as the next scene came and Steve almost believed it hadn’t happened after Bucky sat back in his seat, if not for the tingling in his lips.

He wondered if he could get away with kissing Bucky again.

**Meeting the parents**

Bucky looked up when one of the Sisters guided a boy into the room. He had been sitting on his sleeping pallet, drawing on a scrap of paper, when he’d heard them coming.

"You’ll sleep in here, Steve, with James. James, say hello to Steve." Sister Mary said quietly, nudging the blonde closer. He was skinnier than any kid Bucky had ever seen, eyes red-rimmed and sad looking.

"Hi." Bucky tried to sound welcoming.

The Sister pushed Steve closer. “I need to go fill out some forms, Steve. You stay here with James. I’ll be back.”

Bucky waited until she’d gone to get up and walk over. “You look sad. Why?”

Steve sniffed, looking away. “I…I don’t belong here…”

Bucky cocked his head. “Why not?”

Steve looked heartbroken. “My mom’s still alive.” He looked down, kicking at the tile. “N-not my fault she won’t wake up.”

Bucky bit his lip. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.” He reached over to pat Steve’s shoulder. “Maybe when she wakes up, she’ll come pick you up. You don’t want to stay here anyway.”

Steve nodded a little, but he still looked as though he were on the verge of crying. “I hope she does.” He sat down on the floor by Bucky’s bed.

Bucky reached for his sketch and his small piece of charcoal to finish it. “I hope so, too. I wish my mom were still alive. My dad too.” He determinedly smudged more black on his paper when a small hand covered his forearm. He looked up at Steve.

"Maybe when my mom comes back, she’ll take you home with us, too." Steve smiled a little bit. "And then you don’t have to stay here, either."

Bucky smiled back. “That would be fun.” He looked at Steve’s hand on his arm. “By the way, only the Sisters call me James. I like the name Bucky better. ‘s what my dad used to call me.”

"Bucky." Steve nodded. "I tell my mom when she comes to get me."

Sadly, that was the closest Bucky ever came to meeting Steve’s mother.

**Moving in together**

It wasn’t like this was the first time Steve and Bucky had ever gotten an apartment together. But it was the first time they’d moved in together since the Winter Soldier incident. And the first time they’d moved in together that Steve knew he was in love with Bucky, and that Bucky was in love with him.

They only got a one bedroom apartment, just like the old days, but it wasn’t because that was all they could afford. Not anymore. And they only had one bed, not because they couldn’t afford heating and needed to share heat to be warm.

It was because now, in this day and age, they no longer needed to hide what they were. They didn’t need to pretend that they were just friends, because now, they could be accepted. They wouldn’t be arrested for being together. And that made this the best idea Steve could’ve had.

And it didn’t hurt that the first thing they made sure they got set up was the bed. Because that was the most important piece of furniture, right?

**A crossover of my choice**

"I hate Potions class." Bucky announced as he sat next to Steve in the library. "I keep screwing up every single lesson."

Steve smiled softly and continued to work on his Transfiguration essay, quill scratching across the parchment. “I know. Professor Slughorn keeps mentioning it in my class.” He looked up at Bucky. “You need a tutor.”

Bucky shrugged and loosened his tie before taking a book from his bag. “I’d rather eat gillyweed, thanks.” He muttered. He began to skim through it. “I hate that we can’t sit together in the Great Hall. Stupid House segregation.”

Steve reached down to the bench between them to take Bucky’s hand, running fingers over his scarred knuckles. “I know. I do, too. But, rules are rules.” He reminded. “Not my fault you’re a Hufflepuff.”

"Loyalty over bravery, Steve." Bucky smirked. "Thought you’d like that."

Steve laughed softly and squeezed Bucky’s hand. “Yeah, yeah. You just like to remind me that you’re in this for me.”

Bucky nodded and turned back to his Charms book. “Think we can get away with sneaking out of the wings tonight? Do a little necking on the twelfth floor?” He teased.

Steve blushed, the red working its way up his neck to the tips of his ears. “We-we’ll see.” He picked his quill back up.

"If not, I’ll send you a howler." Bucky nudged at Steve. "To yell at you in the morning about not coming to meet me for a little fooling around."

"Please, don’t." Steve begged jokingly. "Okay, I’ll be there."

"Good." Bucky turned to grin at him. "I’d be upset if you didn’t."

**An au of my choice**

Bucky glanced over his shoulder with a smile when the music started. “Ready, Steve?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, adjusting his shirt cuffs one last time. “Ready.”

Bucky led him onstage, immediately launching into the routine they’d been practicing for weeks. He was proud to see Steve doing the same. He could hear the cheers of the crowd when they simultaneously ripped open their shirts, and tore off their pants, leaving only their bowties, shirt cuffs, and thongs.

Steve easily slid to his knees at the side of the stage for a woman to slide a few bills into the red, white, and blue thong he wore. A glance told him that Bucky had done the same thing on his side of the stage, a party of women giving him tips as well. He shimmied for his side, before meeting Bucky back at the pole. He ran his hand down Bucky’s side.

Bucky pressed up against Steve, grinding on him just a bit to cheers from the crowd. He wrapped his hands around the pole and jumped up onto it.

Steve stood back a bit to watch Bucky’s dance. He always found himself mesmerized by the other man’s grace on the pole.

It wasn’t much longer before their performance was over, and they were heading backstage again. Steve pressed a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “Meet me outside after?”

Bucky grinned. “Why? You want a private dance?” He teased.

"Yeah." Steve replied, half serious. "Back at my place. Just me and you."

Bucky began counting his bills as he headed to change. “I think I’d like that. If I can get a private dance, too.”


	5. Chaz/Blaine - Hot Tub Time Machine

**Fake dating**

"I didn’t agree to this." Chaz muttered as Blaine took his hand. "Why do you need  _me_? You coulda gotten one of the girls at the resort to come with you instead.”

"Come on, Chaz." Blaine griped, leaning over to straighten Chaz’s tie. "Because I actually trust you not to make a fool out of me."

Chaz just looked over Blaine’s shoulder at the big mansion towering in front of them. “Hey, what did you say this was for?”

"My parents. They throw a party every year for dad’s business partners." Blaine shrugged. "Oh, you mean the house?"

"Yeah, like, Blaine, if your family’s rich, why are you working for Ski Patrol?" Chaz planted his feet when Blaine tried to pull him forward. "No, man, this is too much!"

Blaine rolled his eyes. “They own the damn resort, Chaz. My dad signs your paychecks.” He replied simply. “And maybe I just  _like_  being on Ski Patrol? I like the jacket and the snow mobile, and my parents can’t watch me if I’m in the cabin.”

Chaz licked his lips, but finally conceded to being pulled forward toward the door. “That’s a huge bomb to drop on someone, Blaine. That’s not fair.” He took a breath and squeezed Blaine’s fingers. “Well…now or never, right?”

Blaine grinned, leading Chaz past his dad’s butler and into a lavish entryway. “Thank you.” He finally murmured into Chaz’s ear over the classical music. He glanced around for his parents. As soon as he saw them looking towards him, he pressed a kiss into Chaz’s temple. “Remember, I’m trusting you.”

**Bodyswap**

It was a scream that woke Chaz up that morning. He groaned and shifted to the side of his bed to stand up. When he opened his eyes, he almost screamed himself. He was eye-to-eye with Sylvester Stallone’s image on one of the posters  _Blaine_  had tacked up on the walls of his bedroom. But, wait, why was he in _Blaine’s_  room? What had happened after last night’s party? He’d never been so drunk that he’d collapsed in Blaine’s room before.

"Chaz!" A shrill cry echoed to Chaz’s ears. "Chaz! Where are you?!"

Chaz rubbed at his eyes and tugged on a pair of Blaine’s pajamas from the floor before heading out the door and across the hall to his own room. “Blaine?” He called.

Turning the corner, Chaz let out a shocked noise. Standing there, at the foot of his bed, was…him. Well, his body. Just  _staring_  at him. “What…?”

"The fuck?!" His body replied. "What the fuck?! Who are you?!" Chaz’s body ran at him, knocking him off of his feet and to the mattress. "Who sent you?! Are you some kind of spy? You’re here to kill me and take my place?!"

And only one person Chaz knew had that brand of crazy in their system. “Blaine?” He asked. “Man, it’s me. It’s Chaz.”

"You’re a liar!" His body replied, and now Chaz was convinced that it had to be Blaine in there. "Where’s Chaz? Did you kill him, too?!" Hands were wrapping tightly around Chaz’s neck. "You’re not getting me! You’re not gonna take my place, fucker, I am  _not_  letting some Ruskie spy take my place and kill all of my friends. Not today!”

Chaz wanted to laugh, but the fact that his air was being cut off  _really_  put a damper on that. Blaine’s crazy was really getting to him. “Blaine…” He tried to say with what little air he had. His arms raised to touch his own biceps, and yeah, that was weird, Blaine in his body. He shoved at them. The shock had the hands releasing just for a few moments, enough for him to draw in air. “Blaine, it’s me! You’re in my body, man, calm down.”

Eyes widening, Blaine, in Chaz’s body, looked down at his own hands. “No, no, that’s a lie, you’re some Ruskie here to infiltrate the patrol team, kill all of us…” The fight was leaving his words the more he looked at Chaz glaring at him. “Or…fuck, no, this is wrong, this can’t be real, people can’t just  _switch bodies_ , it’s not right!”

Chaz waited patiently for Blaine to talk himself down enough to listen. “Look, man, I don’t know how it happened, but…you’re in my body. Which means, I must be in yours, right?”

Blaine finally nodded, numbly, sitting down hard on the covers of Chaz’s bed. “But…how is that even possible?”

Chaz shrugged and sat next to his friend. “I don’t know, man. It…yeah, it doesn’t make sense, I know.” He sighed. “We just need to, I don’t know, find someone that can fix it, you know? And, fuck, don’t choke me out again, man, that hurts.” He coughed weakly.

Blaine looked up sheepishly, blushing a little. “Sorry. You’re gonna have bruises later…I can already see them starting.”

Chaz raised his eyebrows. “You mean  _you’re_  gonna have bruises. It’s your neck.”

Blaine opened his mouth to reply and then frowned as he closed it. “Well…fuck.”

**Sexpollen/fuck or die/aliens made them do it**

Chaz wasn’t sure what the powder was that Raymond had brought to the party tonight, but he was feeling something from it. He and Blaine had both snorted a little, after some coaxing, with some of the other ski patrollers. But now, they’d stumbled away from the party together, back to the kitchen for some more beers. And the more he looked over at Blaine, the more he thought about what he looked like naked.

Blaine’s eyes were dark as well, when he glanced at Chaz. “What’cha looking at?” He murmured roughly.

Chaz smiled slowly and moved closer to Blaine. One hand touched the boy’s shoulder softly.

Blaine shivered, leaning closer. “Oh…Chaz…” His hands shook as he reached for Chaz’s shirt. He dug his fingers into the soft fabric. “Fuck…fuck, this has never…”

Chaz couldn’t take it anymore, the heat under his skin was making him weak. With a firm shove, he had Blaine’s back pressed up against the counter. “Blaine.” He growled, surprising himself. He’d never felt so possessive. He could practically smell the want coming off of the other boy. “I…I need to…I need to  _fuck_ you.”

Blaine let out a gasp that was all pleasure and his face flushed. He gave a nod quickly. “Fuck…fuck, I…yes, fuck, please.”

Chaz couldn’t stop himself, leaning in to suck a bruise to the surface of Blaine’s neck. His hands slid down the boy’s sides and gripped his hips tightly. He lined his own hips up with Blaine’s to thrust their already-growing erections together.

Blaine was whimpering, moaning, as he held tightly onto Chaz’s shirt. “Please, fuck, Chaz…come on, I need more…”

Chaz smirked into the boy’s neck and reached around to undo his pants. They clung to him still, and Chaz frustratedly pushed them down. “I know, I need it too, Blaine, so much, fuck…” He humped against Blaine’s erection again. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid, man, you have no idea.” Without another thought, he turned Blaine around, hard, and bent him over the counter. “Fuck, I don’t have lube. Spit’s gonna have to work.”

Blaine just hung his head, panting. He canted his hips back to Chaz when the other boy ran spit-slick fingers down his crack. “Chaz, fuck, I…just fuck me, please, just fuck me, I don’t think I can take it…”

Chaz pushed two fingers in quickly, unwilling to penetrate Blaine without a little stretching. He may have been half out of his mind with lust, especially with the delicious image Blaine made, bent so enticingly over the counter with his ass up. “I know, fuck, I need to fuck you, Blaine…”

Blaine’s whimpers filled the kitchen, and it was surprisingly easy to stretch him open. Chaz guessed it was due to his intense want, that he could relax so far. He pulled his fingers out and spat into his hand. He slicked up. “Blaine…” He murmured, thrusting in.

Both boys let out loud moans. Their bodies didn’t still until Chaz was buried to the hilt. And even then, it was only for a few moments. Chaz began to thrust, hard, deep, and uncontrollable.

Blaine moaned underneath him, pushing back without thought.

And it wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning and four hard fucks that they finally both, spent and exhausted, fell back onto Blaine’s bed and fell asleep.

**Dark!fic (TW: non-con knifeplay, non-con bloodplay, mutilation, gore)**

Chaz let out a soft moan when Blaine leaned over him, lips on his neck. He slid his hands gently up the back of Blaine’s shirt. “Blaine…” He hummed appreciatively when the other boy mouthed at his Adam’s apple.

Blaine slid down Chaz’s body, kissing his way to the top of Chaz’s pants. He was being gentle, so gentle, and slow. Chaz had never even had this with any of the women he’d slept with. A hand tangled into Blaine’s hair and Chaz smiled. “That feels so good.”

Blaine grinned up at him, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just wait until we get to the good part.  _That’s_  gonna be even better.” He murmured as he moved back up to claim Chaz’s lips in a kiss.

Chaz kissed back lazily, feeling Blaine slide a hand down the inside of his arm and press it out straight from his shoulder. It was only when he heard the click, felt the cool metal against his skin, that he realized something wasn’t quite right. Another kiss distracted him before another click sounded in the room.

Blaine sat back, straddling Chaz’s hips, and admired the image in front of him.

Chaz’s eyes widened and he turned to look. Handcuffs around each wrist, attached to the bedposts. He couldn’t move more than a few centimeters when he tugged at them. “Blaine? What are you doing, man?” His voice shook a little. He felt fear pooling in his gut when he connected eyes with the other boy. “Blaine, come on, I don’t want to be tied up.”

Blaine’s lips quirked up. “It’s gonna make it so much easier, Chaz. Trust me. You trust me, right?”

Chaz licked his lips. No, no he didn’t trust Blaine. Not with that look in his eyes. He chose not to answer, though, to ignore the question entirely.

Blaine smiled at Chaz’s silence and got up from the bed. He tugged his tee-shirt back down.

Chaz craned his neck to watch Blaine open up his dresser and pull out a bundled blanket. “Wh-what’cha got there, Blaine?” He managed to say. He was proud to say that his voice only shook a little.

Blaine ignored him, moving back to the bed. He laid the blanket down and began to unroll it. Dread settled into the pit of Chaz’s stomach as knives came into view. Knives in all different sizes, blades obviously kept sharp and clean. “Blaine, man, what are you doing?” He tried again, his voice shaking more. “What do you need those for?”

Blaine turned, smiling again. “Oh, you’ll see. You’ll see.” He looked back at the knives before selecting one. It had a wide blade on it. The boy thumbed the sharp side with a smirk. “Perfect.”

Chaz shivered and tried to sink into the bed. He bit into his lip. “Okay, man, this isn’t funny anymore. Let me up now.”

Blaine glanced up, sliding up the bed next to Chaz. He set the flat of the blade against the boy’s bare chest. The metal rubbed softly against a nipple. “Nah. I told you, it’s going to feel so good. Trust me.” The smirk that followed his words wasn’t comforting in the least.

Chaz let out a whimper when the flat side of the blade continued to rub over his nipples. A cry tore from his throat when Blaine finally turned the knife. The sharp edge bit into his skin, right in the center of his chest. “Blaine! Fuck!”

Blaine smiled when the blood began to well up. He pulled the knife back and leaned down to lap it up. “Mmm…”

Chaz whimpered again at the pain of Blaine’s tongue scraping over his open wound. “Blaine…come on, this isn’t funny!” He screamed again when the knife found his side, slicing easily, though shallowly, down his ribcage. He felt tears in his eyes. “Blaine! Come on, man, it hurts!”

Blaine ignored Chaz, eyes scanning the boy’s upper body for another place to cut. By the time he was through with simple, small cuts, Chaz was sobbing from the pain. He was peppered with bloody wounds, half of which had been licked over a few times.

Blaine’s lips were smudged with blood, and he looked proud of himself. “I told you it was good, Chaz, didn’t I tell you?”

Chaz was looking up through wet eyelashes at the other boy. He had betrayal written all over his face.

When Blaine caught the look, his expression darkened. “You’re not answering me, Chaz. You liked it. I know you fucking did.” He rambled on, delusional. “Answer me! Didn’t I say it would be good?”

Chaz turned his head to the side, trying to hold in more tears. He gasped hard and twitched as his arm was caught by Blaine’s free hand. He whimpered softly. “Blaine, stop…it…it hurts…”

Blaine’s eyes were malicious. He held the knife aloft, watching the blood pooling out of the many wounds he’d given Chaz, but it wasn’t enough. Chaz was rebelling, he thought, against what he wanted. So he’d have to teach him a lesson.

The next moment was the most excruciating pain that Chaz had ever endured. He felt the knife bite into his middle finger on the hand Blaine had in a tight grip. It didn’t stop after a little blood, no, but continued to slice into him. Chaz screamed in pain, nearly passing out when Blaine held up the bloody finger in front of his face.

"Maybe that’ll teach you to ignore me, huh? What do you say, Chaz?" Blaine’s crazed eyes searched Chaz’s. "Maybe you’ll learn to trust me now."

And the last thing Chaz saw before his vision darkened and he passed out was Blaine, cleaning his knife of blood.

**Secret kinks**

Chaz leaned more fully over Blaine, kissing his mouth. His hand trailed up over the bulge starting in the other boy’s jeans before slipping up under his tee-shirt. He ran gentle fingers over Blaine’s stomach and hip bones. “Mmm…you’re so…warm.”

Blaine blushed a little, smiling up at Chaz. “You’re…really good at this.” He conceded. “Can we keep…going?” He reached for the hem of Chaz’s shirt and tugged it up. “I’ve been thinking about this all season.”

Chaz smiled. He leaned back to take off his shirt and toss it to Blaine’s floor. “Really?” He leaned back over Blaine, sliding one thigh between Blaine’s. Fingers tugged at Blaine’s shirt until it came up. He dropped it over the side of the bed.

Blaine bit his lip and nodded. “Didn’t…think it would happen, honestly.”

Chaz quieted Blaine with a kiss. “It won’t if you don’t stop talking.” He teased, undoing the button on Blaine’s jeans. His hand slid inside and was met with…silk? Pausing, he looked down at Blaine, who was now very red in the face. “Blaine?”

Blaine turned his head to the side, but raised his hips enough for Chaz to push his jeans down, exposing soft, pink silk panties. His face was burning, and he tried to shake his shaggy hair down over it. “I-I…”

Chaz cupped the bulge in the silk. His thumb ran over a wet spot in the front. “Aww, you’re embarrassed.” He murmured, squeezing gently. “Why’s that? You’re such…such a pretty girl.” He paused as he waited for Blaine’s reaction. He hoped that the other boy didn’t shove him off.

To his surprise, Blaine moaned, spreading his thighs wider. “Chaz…” His teeth dug into his bottom lip.

A smile crossed Chaz’s face as he leaned down for another gentle kiss. His thumb continued to circle the wet spot in Blaine’s panties, the way he did to every girl he’d had the luck to bring to his bed. “That’s my girl. Tell me what you want from me.”

Blaine moaned again, pushing into Chaz’s hand. “I…fuck…” His hips tilted up again. “M-more…more…”

Chaz nodded. His thumb continued its movement. “Pretty girl.” He said softly. In one swift move, he was on his knees between Blaine’s spread thighs. “Do you…want me inside of you?”

Blaine whimpered, chewing at his lip when Chaz undid his jeans. “Y-yeah…yes, fuck…please.”

Chaz grinned and finished removing the last of his clothing. “That’s what I wanted to hear, baby.” He licked his lips, leaning over to dig through Blaine’s nightstand until he found a bottle of lubricant. “Gotta get my girl nice and wet first.”

Blaine blushed at that, but hid a small smile. He lifted his hips.

"Nah, I want you to keep ‘em on." Chaz took Blaine’s hips in his hands and helped him turn over onto his knees. "I’m gonna get you good and wet for me, pretty girl. Do you want that?"

Blaine nodded, his flush deepening when Chaz pulled his panties down only enough to expose his cheeks. “Do…do you really…think I’m pretty?”

Chaz began slicking his fingers. “Yes, I do.” He slid one into Blaine’s heat. Both of them released moans at the feeling. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever bedded.” He pushed a second finger into the warmth, scissoring them. A grin crossed his face when Blaine’s hips tilted up as he slid down on his elbows. The boy’s chest pressed against the covers.

Blaine let out a soft wail when Chaz’s fingers found his prostate. His hips bucked into nothing, cock straining at the silky panties. They grew more damp with precum the longer that Chaz worked him open.

Chaz leaned down to kiss one of Blaine’s hips. “I think you’re ready.” He murmured. “Do you want me to…?” He trailed off, waiting warily for the answer.

Blaine nodded quickly into the pillow. “Yes, yes, please!” He turned his head to look sideways at Chaz. “I…yeah.”

Chaz smiled. He poured some lubricant into his hand, rubbing it into his erection, before sliding in to Blaine. He groaned. “Fuck…oh, Blaine…you’re tight.”

Blaine whimpered slightly and raised his hips. He buried his face into his pillow. “Ch- _az_!”

Chaz slowly began to thrust, holding Blaine’s hips. His thumbs rubbed at the other boy’s soft skin. “Blaine…you feel so good.” He moaned and slouched down over Blaine’s back. “Good girl…”

Blaine let out a cry, pushing back into Chaz. “Chaz!” He began to whine in earnest when the other boy’s fingers found his erection and began to rub it through the smooth, pink silk. “Chaz, I’m gonna-“

Chaz trailed kisses over Blaine’s back, fingering the head of the boy’s cock through his panties. “Squirt for me…” He murmured into sweaty skin. “Squirt for me, baby, that’s it.”

Blaine screamed into the pillow as he began to cum, soaking his panties with semen.

Chaz groaned, his orgasm following quickly when Blaine’s muscles clamped down on him. When they’d both finished shaking, Chaz pulled out and fell onto his side. He reached over to trail his hand down Blaine’s side. “That…that was amazing.”

Blaine was blushing when he finally looked up from the pillow, but grinned. “Y-yeah…” He shucked off his cum-stained panties. “It…it was.”

**Their first kiss**

Blaine could almost believe that it was an accident. Almost.

Except that he knew it wasn’t, and knowing made it hard to believe anything different.

He knew that one of his coworkers had pushed Chaz into him. He knew that they did it out on the mountain, in the snow, to be sure neither of them were hurt (too much) in the process. And he knew that Chaz wanted to kiss him too.

So when the force of Chaz knocking into him laid Blaine out on his back in the snow, with the smaller boy on top of him, well, he didn’t think too much of it after the first few seconds.

Because after the first few seconds, it didn’t matter anymore.

After the first few seconds, Chaz’s mouth was on his, and the heat of the kiss took his mind almost completely off of the snow going down his downy ski jacket.

Almost.

**Meeting the parents**

Chaz had met Blaine’s dad once before, when he shook hands with the man after getting his job at the resort, but at the time, he didn’t know the man as Blaine’s dad. He knew him as the boss, the man that issued his paycheck twice a month. The man who owned his life.

So the day he’d been suckered into meeting his now-boyfriend’s parents for lunch, he hadn’t really expected to meet them at the country club ten miles outside the resort. And he really hadn’t expected to see his boss sitting at the table with a trophy wife who looked much younger than she probably was. And he really,  _really_  hadn’t expected to see Blaine kiss the woman’s cheek and shake the boss’s hand while calling them ‘mom’ and ‘pops’.

No, Chaz hadn’t expected any of that at all. So when his boss reached out to shake his hand, he just stood there, dumbstruck, until Blaine elbowed him in the shoulder and he felt himself shaking that hand that he’d only shook once before.

And when they finally got back to the ski patrol lodge, and Blaine stripped Chaz down to give him the thank-you-blowjob of the century, Chaz began to wonder if the boss knew that he’d been paying his son’s boyfriend good money to fuck him into his bed.

Now that, he could deal with.

**Moving in together**

They’d technically been living together for a while, Blaine reminded Chaz when Chaz had excitedly told Blaine that their offer on the house near the resort had been accepted. Chaz had told him that it wasn’t the point. This time they would be alone, just the two of them, with no one else to pick up after and no one to drink the beer they bought without permission.

This time they would have their own place to run. They could finally live the way they wanted to.

So they got the dog Chaz had always wanted, a German Shepherd to go running with and train to guard their things, and the cat Blaine had always wanted, a small grey ball of fluff to curl up with on the bay window and read to.

And they finally got that king sized bed the two of them had always wanted to have together, with blue covers and four posts, and no one to mock them for wanting to sleep together. Chaz knew, the first night he woke up wrapped around Blaine’s back, with a cat curled on the pillow by his boyfriend’s head and a dog wrapped around their feet, that he would never want anything else.

Except maybe a lint brush.

**A crossover of my choice (Fantastic Four)**

Chaz moaned at the warm touch of the other man’s hands on his as they both tightened their fingers around Blaine’s hips. He bent further into Blaine’s front while the boy wailed in pain and pleasure. “Fuck…he’ so tight…”

Blue eyes flashed over Blaine’s shoulder. The blonde sitting in the armchair grinned at him. “It feels so good, right?”

Blaine’s legs twitched against Chaz’s chest. “So…full…” He whimpered. “Hot and full…”

Chaz looked down at the way the other man’s hands dug into Blaine’s skin, the reddening of it from the heat. “Storm…”

Johnny Storm smirked again, one finger moving between Blaine’s legs to trace the ring of muscle that was stretched tightly around his and Chaz’s cocks. “He takes it so well…lucky boy, you are.”

Chaz smiled a bit and moaned as Blaine’s entrance clenched around them. “I…don’t think…”

Blaine let out a yelp when Johnny lifted and lowered him again. “I’m gonna cum!” He tried to warn as hic cock twitched. It began to spill, hot and thick, down his stomach. He whimpered in completion.

Chaz grunted as he came inside of the boy. His cock twitched against Johnny’s. The other man’s erection was hot against his own, and that warmth, coupled with Blaine’s convulsing body, drew him over the edge.

Johnny moaned at the feeling of Chaz’s cum spilling against his cock as he, too, began to orgasm, filling Blaine to the point of leaking.

Blaine sobbed from stimulation as he was lifted off of them, finally, and laid on the bed. His legs were shaking.

Johnny and Chaz both began to massage out the tension in the boy’s muscles before joining him in bed. They curled up on either side of him and lulled him to sleep with gentle touches.

**An au of my choice**

Blaine whimpered when Chaz helped him up. “Come on, Blaine.” The boy tugged him aside, pushing his weak form through a small doorway. “Shh, it’s okay, I know what you need. You’re safe.”

Blaine could feel Chaz’s hands on him, fingers on his jaw guiding his mouth to the boy’s throat.

"Drink." Chaz said softly. "You need it. I know you haven’t…"

Blaine wanted to push away, but he was so  _weak_. He hadn’t fed in so  _long_. So, with a hesitant hand, he used a thumbnail to break the skin of Chaz’s neck. Lips covered the wound as he began to suck at it. His tongue lapped over the cut  as he did.

Chaz just moaned and leaned into him. “That’a boy, Blaine. That’a boy. Take what you need.”

Blaine’s hands dug into Chaz’s arm as he gained strength. He took a few more mouthfuls, mindful of the pattern of Chaz’s beating heart in his ears, before pulling back and biting the tip of his own tongue. He touched the drop of blood that beaded up to the cut he’d made in Chaz’s skin so that it would heal over. “Th-thank you.”

Chaz nodded, eyes far away and a little misty. “Yeah.”

Blaine reached out to steady Chaz. He always hated feeding from him. Hated hurting Chaz. Watching him sway on his feet. “I don’t know what I’d do…without you.”

Chaz gave a small smile. “You know I’ve always got your back.”


End file.
